


The Third Toll

by IStillPlayWithLegos



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Ishbalan | Ishvalan, Angst with a Happy Ending, But she dies in a different way, Canonical Character Death, Ed's gonna save everyone bc I said so, Gen, Human Transmutation, Ishbalan Character(s) | Ishvalan Character(s), Ishbalan | Ishvalan Alphonse Elric, Ishbalan | Ishvalan Edward Elric, Ishbalan | Ishvalan Trisha Elric, It's Trisha, Kinda, More like glimpses into the future, Murder, Mute Edward Elric, Seer Edward Elric, The happy ending is implied, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, but only kinda, idk how to explain it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IStillPlayWithLegos/pseuds/IStillPlayWithLegos
Summary: They take to alchemy like fish to water—They live, breathe and eat it. Their hands are perpetually covered in chalk and they fall asleep whispering the periodic table to themselves. They tear through every book Izumi throws at them. Every single word she tells them sinks beneath their very skin. Alchemy runs through their blood.Izumi Curtis isn’t bothered by the color of Al’s eyes or the fact that they have to dye his hair darker every few weeks. It only spurs her on to teach them more. The boys are ambitious, that much is clear to her, and she wants to do everything in her power to help them help themselves.Every day, she sees ambition in their eyes, but does not ask for their goal. Never asking will become one of her biggest regrets.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	The Third Toll

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what happened but I woke up yesterday morning and was like "I gotta write this." The Ishvalan religion/language in my fic is based on Judaism and Hebrew. I don't practice anymore and I DEFINITELY don't speak Hebrew, so please correct me if you know better. I also gave them different names for the first part of the fic, but they will change to Ed and Al, so you're not gonna be confused the whole time.
> 
> Language-wise, Ima means mother and achyanim means nephews.
> 
> Also, I fucked with the timeline so here are the major changes. 
> 
> \- The Ishvalan War begins earlier and the State Alchemists are called into Ishval in 1902/03 instead of '08  
> \- Trisha dies in 1903 instead of '04  
> \- The Rockbells die around 1905 (instead of '08) but they aren't killed by Scar (He's a little more chill about the whole arm thing so he doesn't kill them and allows them to help him)
> 
> Everything else stays the same for the most part.

Their names were sacred. That’s what his _Ima_ always told him. 

“You must never share your name with one of _them_ , Ezequias,” he remembers her telling him. “Your name is a part of you.”

The older he grows, the harder it is to remember her. Her silver-white hair and her blood-red eyes. The same features that Aziel inherited, while he did not. No matter how much he despises it, he is every bit his _father’s_ child as Aziel was to _Ima_. 

They escape _Ishval_ with nothing but the clothes on their back and a satchel of Hohenheim’s books which Tzila hurries into his four-year-old hands. 

“ _Hashkiveinu adonai eloheinu l'shalom_ —” she whispers shakily as they huddle in the corner of a military truck, driven by a paid off soldier hoping for some form of redemption. The prayer for protection is cut off when the truck comes to a slow stop and the sharp ring of a gunshot cuts through the air.

Ezequias can’t understand why _Ima_ is crying, but he stays quiet like she told him to.

He stays quiet when the fabric shielding the inside of the truck is opened and they are forced to come out by two Armestrian soldiers. He stays quiet when Tzila is thrown to the ground so hard, she doesn’t rise again. He stays quiet when the soldiers laugh in a language he can barely speak and point a gun to his head. He hides a confused Aziel behind him and continues the prayer where his mother left off. 

There is a shout and the pitch-black night lights up with a flash of blue. 

He stays quiet when the remains of the soldiers splatter across his skin, tainting him with their blood.

Achim’s newly tattooed arm comes into view and the two boys are swept into his arms. He takes them to the only people he can—The two doctors which helped save him. He bites back his pride and begs them to save the two boys. He will never pass on the Elkayam name, but perhaps his _achyanim_ can. First, though, he needs them to live. 

Sarah and Yuriy Rockbell took an oath to save every life they could. They refuse to go back on their promise.

Ezequias, bearing the features of his father, sits with Sarah in plain view of the car windows. Aziel, with his white hair and his red eyes, curls around their feet with a blanket thrown over him. He hides silently, confused and longing for Tzila.

When they are stopped at the border, Ezequias’s heart pounds in his chest, but he pretends to sleep on Sarah’s lap as instructed. Yuriy's knuckles are white with how tightly he clutches at the wheel. The soldier’s flashlights pass over the trio’s golden hair and they are waved across the border with a smile. 

They escape _Ishval_ with nothing but the clothes on their back and a satchel of Hohenheim’s books which Tzila hurried into his four-year-old hands. Ezequias and Aziel escape. Tzila does not. 

\--- --- ---

The boys are welcomed into the Rockbell household with open arms, yet they do not give up their names. Both doctors know how sacred names are to the Ishvalan people, so they don’t force the boys. Instead, they come up with a list of names and allow the boys to pick their own. Ones which they would not need to keep hidden from others.

Ezequias and Aziel Elkayam become Edward and Alphonse Elric. Tzila becomes Trisha. And Hohenheim—They don’t speak of him. He left them. Their mother is dead because of him. His books are the only good thing that ever came from the man. 

Winry, the Rockbells’ four-year-old daughter, is confused when she first meets the boys. She’s never seen anyone with Al’s strange coloring and Ed’s golden eyes. But nevertheless, she’s ecstatic to have new playmates. 

They don’t ask how, but Achim manages to follow them out with Tzila’s body. He gives the boys her sash, and buries her in a nearby cemetery with the Rockbell’s permission. He leaves before the sun rises the following morning and Ed finds his sash neatly folded at the foot of his bed. The boys grieve. They grieve for their dead mother and their uncle who traded his sash—his name for revenge.

It takes time, but with her help, they break through their silence and by the time the boys are five and six, they speak English just as well as Winry. They learn quickly. Not just the language, but _alchemy_. They tear through the books left to them and learn what they can. When they know the books cover to cover, they begin to experiment.

The next time the Rockbells leave, they return home in the form of a death certificate. 

Their roles reverse. This time, it’s Winry who stays silent and it’s the boys who help her find her voice again.

When Ed and Winry are seven, they start school. They learn about the _glories_ of the Armestrian military—The pride of their country. The two children bite their tongues, holding back tears and words of the cruel _truth_. 

The following year, Ed throws a tantrum, frustrated at the fact that Az—Al can’t attend school with him and Winry. He knows why, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. They tell the school teacher Al is sickly and dye his hair blonde with Camomile for the brief public appearances he has to make. It’s just enough for him to pass as Armestrian if he wears sunglasses.

When Al and Ed are eight and nine, a flood threatens to wipe out their village and it’s there they meet their teacher. Their eyes grow wide as they watch her use alchemy to block off the water like it’s nothing. The moment they see that familiar flash of blue, they know. They want _her_ to teach them.

She says no at first, unwilling to take on new students. But they come back again and again, asking—begging her to teach them. It’s their tenacity that makes her consider it, but it’s the glimmer of red behind Al’s sunglasses that solidifies her decision. 

“One is All, All is One,” she teaches them.

And then they _learn_. 

They take to alchemy like fish to water—They live, breathe and eat it. Their hands are perpetually covered in chalk and they fall asleep whispering the periodic table to themselves. They tear through every book Izumi throws at them. Every single word she tells them sinks beneath their very skin. Alchemy runs through their blood.

Izumi Curtis isn’t bothered by the color of Al’s eyes or the fact that they have to dye his hair darker every few weeks. It only spurs her on to teach them _more_. The boys are ambitious, that much is clear to her, and she wants to do everything in her power to help them help themselves. 

Later on when they ask if it was out of pity, she throws them both over her shoulder and calls them “idiots,” as they lay on the ground panting. When they look up at her, _something_ passes over her face. An almost… cruel expression. 

“Someone needs to teach those pigs a lesson,” she’ll tell them as she cracks her knuckles. “If anyone has the drive to change this country, it’ll be you two shrimps.”

Ed will jump up and run at her upon hearing “shrimp.” They’ll spar. He’ll lose. But he’ll _learn_. The young boys will just barely understand what she means, but they’ll remember it for the rest of their lives—This strong woman who helped them find themselves. 

Every day, she sees ambition in their eyes, but does not ask for their goal. Never asking will become one of her biggest regrets.

\--- --- ---

It’s 1910. Al and Ed are ten and eleven when they draw their own downfall in chalk. 

Water, 35 liters; Carbon, 20 kilograms; Ammonia, 4 liters; Lime, 1.5 kilograms; Phosphorus, 800 grams; Salt, 250 grams; Saltpeter, 100 grams; Sulfur, 80 grams; Fluorine, 7.5 grams; Iron, 5 grams; Silicon, 3 grams.

A few drops of blood—DNA, data from their souls.

They place their hands on the array and then everything goes wrong.

\--- --- ---

The world. The universe. God. Truth. All. One.

All names this horrible figure introduces themself with.

The truth, perhaps, but not God. Never God. Ezequias Elkayam knows Ishvala would never be so cruel to her children.

He never asked for the knowledge forced upon him, but he pays the toll anyways and it leaves him ~~wanting~~ needing _more_.

In the cellar, he sobs in pain, his chest heaving as he crawls to the empty suit of armor and begs for his brother back. He offers his leg, his arm, his heart—Anything Truth wants. 

The arm is taken and his brother’s soul is bound to an empty suit of armor.

\--- --- ---

Ed’s search for knowledge has and will always be his fatal flaw.

He finds a rabbit and retches as he snaps its neck. There’s less of everything this time. Less water. Less carbon. But a rabbit is a life, nonetheless. 

He presses his hands to the array and prays to Ishvala, this time with the knowledge that there will be a toll. But he needs _more_. He’s so close to _understanding_. He wants to know why his people were slaughtered. Why his mother had to die. How he can fix it. He goes back a third time. 

\--- --- ---

They find him the next morning clutching at the dead rabbit with his single arm and tear tracks marring his face. He mouths his apologies over and over again. They look down at the circle and realize what he’s done. They think his apologies are for the dead rabbit. They’re not. 

They’re for the girl and her dog he couldn’t save. They’re for the father who just wanted to see his daughter one last time. They’re for the brother whose armor lays on the ground of a stone courtyard, the usual pinpricks of red in his eyes turned to an endless sea of blackness. 

“The toll,” Al begs, shaking him. “Brother, what was the toll?”

When Ed opens his mouth to respond, nothing comes out. He mouths something they cannot yet decipher and points to his throat.

 _He's mute_.

As his mouth opens Al catches a glimpse of his tongue and recoils back like he was shot. He pushes Ed towards a mirror and tells him to look.

The normally pink flesh is accentuated by the black char marks of the array burned into his tongue. The array for human transmutation. ~~Knowledge for the paid price~~ A harsh reminder of his third, but not final, toll. Ed stares at it for a while. It’s slightly different from the one him and Al used. It’s both his toll and his reward.

He examines it in the mirror, his mind rushing with ideas—Filling in the gaps of what went wrong and how to fix it. The array is precise. More so than any alchemist could ever hope to come up with. Traded to him by a higher power, the truth of human transmutation lies on his tongue. 

Ed turns around and looks upon Al’s ~~body~~ suit of armor. His golden eyes blaze with fury. 

Nina. Maes. Aziel. He’ll save them. He’ll save them and this godforsaken country all at the same time. He’ll free his Ishvalan brothers and sisters from their suffering. He’ll fix this country if it’s the last thing he does. It’s his job to prevent the outcomes he _knows_ will happen. The deaths are ingrained into his mind—Playing over and over again with no end. He paid his toll and Truth gave him what he asked for. 

\--- --- ---

The first toll was an accident.

The second was for his brother.

And the third?

The third toll was for _knowledge_.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love the concept but idk if I have the patience to turn this into a full fledged fic. Leave a kudos and let me know in the comments if you guys liked it! Seeing the (1) in my inbox is a massive boost of serotonin lmao. Thanks for reading and have a great day!!!


End file.
